


Amen

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [52]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, M/M, altar boys, in a confessional booth, thats it thats the whole story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The confessional booth smelled like incense and sweat. It was dark, and too hot, but Sam didn’t care about the trickle of sweat dripping down his back and how his knees started to throb with his pulse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amen

Sam shifted, knees aching, the small booth no where near big enough for two teenage boys to fit in like this. Gabe gripped his hair, pulled him closer, and Sam swallowed around his cock. Gabe bit off a curse, trying to be quiet, huffing and whimpering as Sam pulled back and swirled his tongue around the head. 

The confessional booth smelled like incense and sweat. It was dark, and too hot, but Sam didn’t care about the trickle of sweat dripping down his back and how his knees started to throb with his pulse. He shifted again, pushing Gabe’s thighs wider and leaning against the other boy, pulling him forward, bobbing on his cock. 

Sam moaned when Gabe pulled harder on his hair. He always loved that, being tugged around, feeling the scrape of nails against his scalp, the twinge of pain when his hair was pulled. Gabe shifted, pushing his hips up, fucking into Sam’s mouth. Spit dribbling down messy and soaking the nice black slacks. Both of them still had their white altar boy robes on. 

Sam could remember being young and eager and confident in his belief, signing up to be an altar boy because he wanted to be good, wanted to be closer to God. Why he was still doing this, he had no idea. 

No, scratch that. He knew exactly why he was still doing this. Gabe wasn’t really a very good Christian boy either, but they both still looked good. Looked like normal teenage boys from wholesome families. No one had to know that after sweeping the aisles and slotting the Bibles neatly in the backs of the pews, they worshipped each other’s bodies in the confessional booths. 

Sam had known from a very young age that he wasn’t normal. He didn’t want to chase girls around the playground. He wanted to wrestle in the dirt with boys. But wanting those sorts of things could still get a boy in a world of trouble in the small backwater Midwestern town they lived in. 

Go figure that he’d find just the kind of sin he couldn’t look for in a white robe under the church’s roof. 

Jaw starting to twinge, his own cock throbbing in his pants because Sam’s arms were draped over Gabe’s lap and the booth was too damn tiny, Sam pressed his tongue hard to the underside of Gabe’s cock and hollowed his cheeks, working past his gag reflex to sink all the way down. He heard the thunk of Gabe’s head hitting the back of the booth as the other boy fisted his hair and shot down his throat. 

Gabe was panting and red cheeked when Sam pulled off, swiping the corner of his mouth on the hem of Gabe’s robe that was rucked up around his waist. Pushing up, feeling pins and needles in his feet that had fallen asleep, Sam stood in the booth and had to bow his head when it hit the top. Gabe tugged at his hips, sat up to press his face against Sam’s lap and pulled up his robe. 

Sam leaned back against the door to the confessional and held his robe up as Gabe tugged his pants open and kissed the tip of his cock before turning mischievous eyes up to him and smiling. 

“Bless us oh lord and these thy gifts which we are about to receive…”

Sam stifled a laugh in his hand before whispering, “Amen.”


End file.
